My parents have always had fun stories about their childhoods. Mom in
particular was a crack-up. When a story about them comes up in some
way or another, I write it down as accurately as possible after they
tell it. I want to keep these stories. So, I've decided to share some
of them.
Hopefully they won't mind. I should ask them. Maybe later.
I'm telling a short one because it's late, I'm tired and I have a cold
that's making me feel foggy. And I wanna watch TV and snuggle with my
hairy 4-legged boyfriend.
I was talking to Dad a while back about childhood stories.
"Dad, didn't you try to cut the tail off a cat so you could tie it to your hat?"
"Yeah. I was about seven or eight, around there. Davie Crocket was big
those days and I wanted one of those hats with the tail on the back.
Mima (his mom) was really mad I used her good scissors."
"But, the cat was dead." I said, wanting to visualize accurately.
"Mostly."
(Relax, animal loving tree huggers - there was a wink in his voice.)
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